


Your Biggest Fan

by Caranx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Sexting, Webcams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caranx/pseuds/Caranx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucio gets a call from an unknown number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Biggest Fan

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my twisted kinks (they arent twisted its just no one makes content for them so now i gotta) (and i suck at it) (i hate this)   
> (write camming fics goddamnit)   
> (save me the pain)

Lord knew that he loved his concerts, it was his passion, but man, they needed to tone down the laser effects a little bit. Four hours of flashing greens and yellows made Lucio's eyes sting and head pound to the rhythm of his new albums hit track. He rubbed his temples while waiting for the elevator to his hotel room to come down. He made a mental note to ask his costume designer if there were any options for eyewear that might help and tapped the button for the highest floor level. The quick glow of the button and ping sounding the doors close made him wince. He just wanted to go home and relax. 

How high up was his room...

...

Man, maybe he needed a vacation. Some peace and quiet after locking himself in his own studio for months to finish up the album. Even after donating over 50% of his profit and giving his team a nice bonus, he still had so much money to spare. His family was well taken care of but he hadn't had the chance to spend some time with them in quite a while. Too busy making a list of possible vacation destinations that his family would enjoy, he hardly registered the elevator doors opening, barely catching them as they closed. He knew it wouldn't actually hurt him, but jamming his hand inbetween the closing door always made him sweat a little. Instinct, he assumed.

Swipe the card, open the door, close it, lock it, walk in, switch the prosthetics, stand there because he forgot what he had to do next, remember, change into his sleepwear, brush his teeth, pass out on the couch with the tv on. 

The usual. 

...

The tv buzzed softly, it's volume set low enough as to not contribute to his headache, but high enough to keep him from feeling completely alone. Shit, he forgot to take an aspirin. Too late now. His eyes drifted shut for the seventh time, but this time he let them. He rolled to his side, the news humming in the background. It was way more tolerable to have on if you couldn't hear what they were saying. The buzzing began again, this time from under his hip; his phone struggled to vibrate under his weight and dug painfully into his side. None of his crew members would ever call him this late and neither would his family unless it was an emergency. The flash of his phone screen blinded him momentarily and a burst of pain spread deeply through his skull. Should have taken the aspirin. 

"Hello?" Christ, his voice sounded like he was talking after 40 years of smoking. Yelling to the audience had its pros and cons. 

No reply.

A chime signaled that the other had ended the call.

He tried to read the number on the screen but didn't recognize it as anyone on his contacts. He had barely placed the phone onto his chest when the phone vibrated again. 

"....Hello?"

"This ain't Lucio Correia dos Santos by chance, is it?"

Did a fan leak his number? 

"Who is this?"

"Hooley dooley... You ain't pullin my leg are ya?" The man on the other end of the line giggled something along the lines of 'it's my last one'. 

Lucio's brain barely had time to digest and figure out an acceptable response before the man continued.

"You hafta lighten up on the security at yer concerts! How am I supposed to sneak in with all those big guys patrolling the borders?!" The man sounded genuinely upset, but Lucio laughed it off as a joke. The caller made a choked noise but continued.

"Ain't funny, mate! I bought tickets and everything, but those guys were eyein’ me something sinister!

Lucio laughed again, this time his voice cracking halfway, sounding more tired than he would've liked. 

"I'm sorry about that- Ah. What's your name?" Lucio picked at his nails absentmindedly; one of his nails chipped yesterday and kept catching on his clothes. 

"J-....... Jamison---Jamie. Jamie. Roight."

"No worries, Jamie, I'll try to send a message out and let them know. Glaring isn't in the job description."

A high pitched giggle rang out from the phone along with a very quiet 'Jamie!'.

The line went quiet for a moment before a quick “seeya” was whispered and the call ended before Lucio could say anything.

\-----

Days passed and Lucio ignored the curiosity to recall the mysterious number in favor of researching vacation deals and planning the flight dates. What was that weird accent that guy had anyway. Minutes ago he was searching for videos of helicopter tours of waterfalls in Mexico and now he was searching compilation videos of accents. He momentarily paused the video on Chinese and held his head in his hands. Just for a moment, though, and then resumed the video. It took two videos to find an accent even remotely similar to the one he heard over the phone, if he could even remember it correctly. Being half awake muddled his memories of the time.

Australian. 

The more examples he listened to the more sure he became. Or the more easily he was convincing himself that that's what it was just to get some peace of mind. Wow. Ok, too much deep thinking. He closed the tab and resumed looking at available tours. 

His phone buzzed. He finished reading the paragraph on the page open and then pulled the glowing screen of his phone towards him. A text.

-what’s yr fav color

Unknown number. His media consultants had advised him to block numbers not on his contacts list in case of any bad interactions with fans. But something told him this wasn’t his average fan.

-I hadnt heard your accent before. Its pretty cool.  
-not many of us left anyway that dont matter. what color  
Same guy. Lucio breathed a sigh of relief. That was risky. It was a different number than before.  
-Green.  
-makes sense. makes sense. yr legs. they aint there rite?  
-That’s a strange question. But yes. I have prosthetics.  
-cool cool. me too. one. no wait two.   
He could see him typing. Stopping. Typing again.  
-me arm and leg  
Lucio didn’t know how to respond. Apologizing didn’t seem right. And neither did asking how he lost them.  
-Whats your favorite color?  
-orange  
He kept typing  
-and green  
Lucio put down his phone and tried to imagine who he was talking to.  
-Where do you live?  
-wander around. no place in particular.   
Lucio was itching with curiosity at this point. Jamie was oddly mysterious.   
-What do you look like?  
-i can show ya  
-Is that ok?  
-sure  
A couple minutes of silence from the other end. Then Lucio received a link. An external webcam site. 

There was something thrilling about the anonymity of the situation. The site asked if he wanted to use his cam or mic. He selected mic and muted it for the time being.   
He had no idea what to expect.  
The camera on the other end turned on and it struggled to focus. The room was dark in the video stream. The only light came from the screen of the laptop connected to the camera. A blueish white light that made pale skin look almost sickly. The camera focused on a bare chest, a long neck, and the tip of a sharp chin. An adam’s apple distinctly bobbed. 

-Hey- Lucio typed into the chat.  
The head tipped down more when two arms reached out to type back a reply, a glimpse of a smirk. The mic was on; he could hear Jamie typing. The bright orange prosthetic was incredibly old, a model that Lucio didn’t even recognize.   
-hey- came the reply  
-No shirt?- Lucio asked as a metal orange hand scratched at a pec  
-less clothes the better  
Was this… Was this really what Lucio thought it was? He had heard fans in the crowd say some pretty interesting things, but his social media team did a good job at cleaning out any “unsolicited images or messages”.   
He still hadn’t seen his face, but Lucio’s attention was now drawn to the muscles that he hadn’t bothered taking in at the beginning. Defined but wrapped around a frame that looked more malnourished than anything. The hair near the edge of Jamie’s cargo pants could hardly be seen, the only way Lucio knew it was there was the reflections of light. Blond.   
Lucio’s hands hovered over his keyboard. He’d never… done anything like this before.  
-Do you want less clothes?  
“Anythin’ ya want” He spotted a grin at the top of the screen with a flash of light. A gold crown? Really strange.  
His finger’s twitched over the keys again. Jamie… Did he want him to take control?  
“No need ta be shy, mate”  
Shy wasn’t anywhere close to who Lucio regularly was. But this was nervewracking. No one had ever so freely offered themselves to him. He understood fans saying it to him while he walked by, but never like this. Never one on one, so secluded. Jamie seemed incredibly confident.  
-Yes  
“Ya?”  
Lucio paused, but repeated himself.  
-Yes  
He remembered his mic but worried that his voice would shake if he said anything right now. Better save it for later.  
Jamie moved from sitting to kneeling. He was clearly on a bed, laptop near the foot of it. All   
Lucio could see was the bottom half of his torso and his pants to his knees. Hands came into view along the beltline. Fingers hooked around the hem and ran along the inside. Fuck, the blond was already hard. He planned this. He unbuttoned and pulled the camo pants down. Lucio heard a shaky breath. Thin fingertips ghosted over the silhouette of a penis straining below white briefs. The hands were covered in burn scars. Jamie ran boney fingers up and down his length. His hands shook slightly.   
-Less clothes  
A breathy laugh came through Lucio’s headphones and straight to his dick when a metal hand pulled down the edge of the remaining clothing to show a thin but respectably long member. Uncut, and leaned to the right slightly, with a curve upwards that he could only describe as cute.   
A gold pearl sat right under the head. Lucio couldn’t even imagine getting his own pierced. 

-Are you just going to sit there?  
“Shit,” Jamie sighed, instantly grabbing himself, “Should be askin’ you that.”  
Lucio’s palmed himself through baggy sweatpants and clicked the button to turn on his mic.  
“Better?” Lucio hoped to high heaven that his voice didn’t sound too strained. Bare thighs clenched at this voice. Another “shit” escaped Jamie, this one considerably less confident and more heavy with lust, cracking off near the end to become a broken “shee”  
“Back up.”  
The blond did as commanded almost immediately and scooted back on his knees. The light wasn’t as strong, but he was able to see most of his body now at least. Lucio didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, didn’t know how this even started, but this was arguably the most exciting thing he’d done this week. He pulled himself out from his own pants. 

Lucio let out a light laugh and watched the muscles on Jamie’s stomach tense, “Do you like my voice that much?”  
“Not jus’ your voice” 

Lucio suddenly had the urge to run his hands over the chest of a guy he’d never even met. He wouldn’t lie; he felt incredibly influential. The power to make someone groan in just a few casual words. It made him imagine a reaction to his own hands on the other’s body. Would he shake and tense up, or would he melt and arch into his touch. The limit of being behind a screen only left him wanting more. Fantasies of physical touch had him sighing into the microphone, Jamie echoing it back in a broken moan. He sounded like he was in pain. He watched the small golden ball peek out from inside Jamie’s fist whenever he’d pull in far enough to show the tip. A small reflection in the darkness.   
“Fuck, I want you so bad”, Jamie didn’t need to say it; Lucio could hear it in volumes. A bulky metal hand went up to muffle his own noise. Fucks were repeated, barely stopped by the metal.  
Lucio played along anyway, wanting to hear Jamie’s own plans.  
“Really?”  
“Yes, fuck yes,” a groan interrupted him, and Jamie rocked on his knees  
“Fuck, I’d do anythin’. Let you take me anywhere. Any hole. As long as ya need.” He pulled at himself faster with each fragmented sentence.   
“Anywhere?”  
“Ye, anywhere”  
“Behind the curtains? In my fitting room? Where anyone could hear us? Where my crew could walk in at any time?” Lucio’s mind was running a thousand ideas a minute, a thousand scenarios and fantasies.  
“Yes. Fuck. Especially that, yes.”  
“You want to get caught?”  
“M-Maybe”, Jamie’s voice cracked again.  
Lucio swallowed hard, hand tightening around himself  
“What would you want me to do to you?”  
More curses left the blond’s lips, “Anythin’. Anythin’ you’re into, I’m into. Fuck, just use me up.”  
He could see sweat gathering, making the other’s chest shine. The other’s hips were twitchy, barely keeping up with his own hand. Panting and wet slapping was all the Lucio could hear, all he cared about hearing anyway.   
“Please, say m’name,” a groan, ”Please”  
“Jamie” The blond’s hips stuttered and he keened, coming into his own hand. He doubled over, metal hand falling to catch himself on the mattress. All Lucio could see was a mess of blond hair. The blond head tilted up. Lucio could’ve sworn he saw golden eyes, but he doubted those even existed, and a pair of thin lips came into view. A dirtied hand was brought up and a tongue darted out to lick at the mess he’d made.   
All Lucio was able to sound out was the “J” followed by a low groan when he came into his own hand. The lips curled up into a satisfied smile.  
“Ta.”  
And the camera turned off.

**Author's Note:**

> hi my twitter is @kophing_  
> talk to me about boombox  
> next chapter coming soon


End file.
